


leashed

by tsonis



Series: howl [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Werewolf Jesse McCree, inappropriate hallway behaviours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsonis/pseuds/tsonis
Summary: “Guess I really worked my magic, huh? You’re already talking about my cock.”“Cockiness.” Hanzo corrected, voice icy.“Easy now, darlin’, didn’t mean to awaken the dragon or anythin’.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> cw includes mention of alcohol, sexual innuendos littered throughout, and mentions of food! please heed these warnings.
> 
> honestly, didn't expect to produce this as quick as i did, but with the helpful pushing from my friends i managed to whack this out in a week. i am of the firm belief that hanzo could be (and will be) head over heels for jesse but will still make him work for his affection/attention, just 'cause. i am also 100% sure that satya and hanzo will be good friends, please OW, let them interact more....
> 
> anyways, thanks a bundle to my ridiculously thorough beta gabriel!!! i love this boy!!! he put up with me at odd hours of the day sending snippets like a mad man.
> 
> p.s. i track the tag 'howl verse' on tumblr now! if you have any questions for me, the way the story is going, or just want to stroke my ego by letting me know what you think, fire away!!

“This is McCree, I ain’t here right now, leave a message after the beep.”

Hanzo sighed, quickly hitting the button to end the call before tossing his phone across the room. He felt foolish, and had half the mind to tear up the note that had McCree’s number and forget the whole ordeal.

There was a soft buzzing, and he was up on his feet and practically launching himself across the room to grab his phone.

“Hello,” he panted into the phone, before sucking in a deep breath through his nose to calm his breathing. “This is Hanzo speaking.”

“Hanzo!” The bright voice trailed through was definitely _not_ McCree’s voice. He told himself the twinge that he felt in his chest was not one of disappointment. “This is Dr. Ziegler.”

“Dr. Ziegler, what a pleasant surprise.” 

There was a hum across the phone, and the sound of rustling papers. “I was wondering if you had some free time to day to come by my office.”

“I—may I ask why?”

For one horrible moment, Hanzo thought she knew of his lie about what had happened in the alleyway. 

“I just have some questions about your medical history, as your previous physician hasn’t sent me your medical records yet. No need to worry,” she soothed.

“Of course. Is after one alright?” 

She made thoughtful noise, and it sounded like she was tapping her long nails against the wood of her desk. “You might have to wait a bit, as I have an appointment scheduled for half an hour before, but that should be fine. See you then.”

Hanzo returned the sentiment before quickly hanging up. He ran a hand over his face, as if the movement could ease the stress headache building at his temples.

\--

True to Dr. Ziegler’s word, he did have to wait—not very long—but long enough for him to get bored and start flipping through the pages of a faded magazine after he grew bored of studying his surroundings.

Like most medical offices, Dr. Ziegler’s was a warm, beige colour, walls bare except for the sparse art that hung in cheap frames. The chairs, however, were surprisingly comfortable despite their rugged, wooden appearance.

“Thank you kindly, Angela. I’ll see y’around.” Hanzo looked up upon hearing that voice, in time to catch McCree’s eye as he tipped his hat to Angela and walked out of her office.

McCree startled, whether due to Angela shutting her door or the sight of him, but quickly regained his composure and smirked at him. “Howdy there, Hanzo. Looks like you got a good night’s sleep.”

Hanzo said nothing, choosing to study the paragraph about fly fishing in America in favour of entertaining McCree.

“C’mon now, you really ignorin’ me in favour of reading a magazine called Adventure Fishing?”

“Yes.”

“Ah,” McCree crowed, slapping his hands together. “He speaks! Did you get my message? Or d’ya just like playing hard to get?” 

“You really assume after the display you put on last night I would be looking forward to it?”

McCree shrugged, wholly unapologetic. “I did notice a missed call this morning, is it safe to assume it’s you?”

Hanzo flushed, raising the magazine high enough to cover his face. “You are as foolish as you are cocky.”

“Guess I really worked my magic, huh? You’re already talking about my cock.”

“ _Cockiness_.” Hanzo corrected, voice icy.

“Easy now, darlin’, didn’t mean to awaken the dragon or anythin’.” 

“For your pitiful attempts at flirtation?” Hanzo scoffed, closing the magazine with a sharp _snap_. “Hardly.”

McCree opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when Angela opened her door and poked her head out. “Hanzo, I am able to see you now.”

“Goodbye,” Hanzo muttered in McCree’s direction, before smoothing his front and walking swiftly past him.

“Hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” McCree called after him.

Hanzo ground his teeth together, refusing to give McCree exactly what he wanted. Judging by the way Angela’s shoulders shook with barely contained laughter, she undoubtedly heard him.

\--

Their appointment had gone smooth enough, and Angela had gracefully not brought up McCree’s parting comment, for which Hanzo was thankful.

So Hanzo was utterly confused as to what compelled him to hover around her office, even after she had finished filing his paperwork and confirming their next appointment.

“How do you know McCree?” Hanzo asked, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth when that came out instead of a ‘goodbye’. 

Angela stiffened at that, and a tight smile settled on her lips. “I am his physician as well as his handler, that is all there is to it.”

“The way he nuzzled you says otherwise.”

Angela sighed at that, removing her glasses to rub at the marks left on her nose. “Scent marking, not nuzzling.”

“What is the difference?”

“Scent marking is for territory, for objects that you consider to be yours. Nuzzling is when you create a familiar scent that you associate with family and ‘home’.” She pauses, placing her glasses on the desk and leaning back in her chair. “I hardly know why this would be important to you.”

Hanzo reddens, rubbing a palm against the back of his neck, choosing instead to study the small pot of fenestraria on her desk.

“Something happened last night, didn’t it?”

“No.”

“I advise you not to lie to me, as both his handler and friend. If he did something—”

“ _No_ ,” Hanzo repeated, voice firm. “Nothing happened, he was on his best behaviour. As was I.”

Angela scoffed. “Now I _know_ you are lying. Even when not in that state he is anything but well behaved. Should I remove you from future missions with McCree?”

“That won’t be necessary—while that may be true, nothing happened.” Hanzo stood up then, the movement startling Angela out of whatever thought she was lost in. “I think I should go.”

“Of course. Same time next week, then.”

Hanzo nodded, before quickly leaving, unsure whether he would unravel under her scrutiny or not. 

McCree’s voice greeted him, once again, when he shut the door behind him. He flinched at the sight, swearing softly at how McCree’s features softened at his reaction. In every interaction they had, McCree always seemed to have the upper hand, or at least feign that he did. It was unnerving. 

“Thank you for what you said in there.”

Hanzo blinked and cleared his throat, not trusting his voice otherwise. “You sat here the entire time?”

An amused look crossed McCree’s face. “Yeah, heard every word too. You really scratched a chicken pox scar on your ass? Can I see?”

At the look on Hanzo’s face instantly sobered. “Really, though, thanks. They already got me on a short enough leash, if I act up anymore they might just put me down.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Hanzo muttered, ignoring the hopeful glint in McCree’s eyes in favour of brushing past him and out the door to the hallway.

“I know.” The softness in his voice startled Hanzo, but he did a good job of hiding it. “But you saved my ass and I owe ya one.”

“You can return the favour by leaving me alone.”

“That’s a lie. Y’don’t want me to leave you alone.”

Hanzo swallowed roughly, paying no mind to the fear that bubbled in his throat, acrid and sharp. 

“I can hear your heart beat if I focus hard enough. It sutters when y’lie,” McCree added conversationally. A cold stab of dread went through Hanzo at that; his own _body_ was betraying him when it came to McCree.

“If this is your idea of courting me, you’re doing a poor job.”

McCree quickened his stride to match Hanzo’s, their arms brushing together with each step. “Are y’giving me pointers on how to date you?”

“No.”

“Liar.” A Pause, and Hanzo hears a sharp intake of breath. “Dinner’s at six, would y’care to join me?”

“Goodbye McCree.”

“I’ll pick you up at half past five, till then,” from the corner of his eye, Hanzo watched McCree tip his hat before veering off and turning down another hall.

Hanzo watched him go, jaw clenched against the flutter in his chest.

 _God_ , he was so screwed.

\--

“If you don’t think it’s a date, why bother worrying about what you’re going to wear?” From where Satya sat on his bed, she didn’t even look up from where she was filing her nails. “Unless you consider it one.”

“I can hear your smirk from here,” Hanzo groaned, ankle deep in his closet. When did he own so many shirts?

“There is nothing of the sort on my face.”

“Your innocence is sullied by the fact that I know you too well. I know your smirking voice.”

“I didn’t know I had one.”

“You can feign ignorance to me all you want, but deep down I know.”

She sighed, rising from her perch and tucking away her file in her jacket pocket, and moved to lean against the door of his closet. “No need to dress up if he is taking you to the cafeteria here.”

“I know, but…” He trailed off, shrugging.

“You’re nervous.”

“Obviously.” He winced at the bite in his tone. “Sorry, I shouldn’t take this out on you.”

“Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Not really, but what have I got to lose?”

“You should figure out if you even like this _McCree_ first. So the question is, do you?”

His tongue felt like lead, hanging limply in his mouth.

“Answer that before you answer the question of what you’re going to wear.” She pushed off from the wall, flicking a strand of hair behind her ear with a lacquered nail. “As much as I’d love to help,” her voice dripped with sarcasm, Hanzo scowled, “I have a meeting to attend with Ana.”

Without as much as a “goodbye” she left, heels clicking and a cloud of jasmine-sweet smelling air in her wake.

“As always, I am left more confused after we talk,” he spoke to open air, shaking his head before returning to digging through his clothes.

\--

He clenched his fist, fighting the urge to do a third walk-by of the entrance to the cafeteria; through the small window in the door he could make out the outline of who he thought was McCree—not that Hanzo would admit he could pick out the silhouette in the crowd—and his nerves started anew.

His phone chirped, and he unclenched his fist to grab it from his pocket and unlock it with a shaking hand.

_Calm down. Just think of it as lunch with me._

The fluorescent letters stared at him, bright against the background of his phone. He was half surprised Satya had remembered, let alone bothered to assure him it was going to be fine, but he knew they shared a deep bond despite their teasing of each other.

_I am always scared when I go to lunch with you, it’ll be no different._

The little ellipses signalling Satya’s ripple across his screen, before he is graced with her reply.

_Fareeha has told me to tell you “go get him”._

Hanzo barked a laugh at that, scrubbing a hand over his face. ‘Tell her to focus on getting Angela before she tries to give me advice.’

He flicked his phone to silent and shoved it in his pocket, steeling himself with another breath before pushing open the doors. 

From where he was standing, he could clearly see McCree where he was leaning against the wall, hairy arms crossed over his chest, hat tipped low over his face. As if he caught his scent—and part of Hanzo _knew_ he did—McCree’s head snapped up. His eyes flashed with surprise, before returning to their unreadable murky depths, and he smirked, the twist of his lips looking crooked and jagged.

Hanzo walked over to him, slow and deliberate steps in time with his breath, as he watched McCree’s eyes rake over his body; a flush rose to his face, and Hanzo ticked his jaw, willing it to fade.

“You clean up nice,” McCree said in greeting, pushing off the wall with a fluid motion. 

“One of us has to.”

McCree let out a laugh, placing a hand over his heart. “Y’know, if my ego wasn’t so big, that might’ve actually hurt me. But since I’m on the topic of stuff that’s big, I also have a big d—”

“What are the plans for dinner?” Hanzo interrupted smoothly, a sense of glee overcoming him as he saw McCree thrown off his game.

“Well, uh, I wasn’t really expecting you to show up.” McCree mumbled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Y’kinda told me to buzz off early today, unless I heard wrong.”

Hanzo squirmed at the memory. “What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”

“And hopefully something else later,” McCree muttered.

“What was that?”

“I was saying I hope we can eat curry later, they have good naan from what I’ve heard.”

Hanzo raised a brow, but decided to let it drop. “Lead the way then.”

McCree obliged, offering his arm to Hanzo, before letting it drop at the withering look he was shot. 

“We will have to talk about what happened in the alleyway the other day,” Hanzo said softly.

“I guess so.”

There was a silence that followed, not uncomfortable but not fully welcome. Hanzo watched McCree out of the corner of his eye, studying the cut of his jaw and the thick beard there. Unbidden, the sensation of that beard against his neck in the alleyway ghosted over his skin. A shiver ran over him, to which McCree turned to look at him, a look of worry in his eyes.

“It’s fine, just a little cold.”

The lie was obvious, even to someone who _couldn’t_ hear his heart. Beatifically, McCree let it slide.

“So tell me,” McCree started, choosing their time to wait in line to strike up conversation. “What’s the deal with the, y’know,” he gestured to where Hanzo’s tattoos were with his v-neck on. 

“My tattoos?” 

“Yeah, they’re cool and all… but what do they do.”

“Have you never seen me in combat?”

McCree scrunched his face up, and tapped a finger on his chin. “So, d’they like, allow you to see in the dark like light up Sketchers I had as a kid or somethin’?” 

Hanzo paled, fury pinching in his gut. “A-Absolutely not.”

“Whoa,” McCree raised his hands as if to calm a spooked horse. “Hit a nerve, huh?”

“These tattoos allow me to harness the power my family has cultivated for generations.”

“The power to be a glowstick,” McCree’s voice came out as no more than an awed whisper. At the way Hanzo practically shook with rage, McCree placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “I’m only joking. Really. I know what they’re for. Genji told me about them when I asked.”

At the mention of his brother, he all but deflated under McCree’s hand. “You have talked to Genji? How is he doing?”

“He misses ya, a lot. He wants to see you.”

“I see.” 

“Consider it at least.” The omnic behind the counter called for the next customer, and McCree’s face lit up. “Guess that’s us, y’hungry?”

\--

“I don’t think I have ever eaten that much in my damn life,” McCree grinned, arms slung comfortably over Hanzo’s shoulder. Normally, he’d shrug it off or even be sent into a tizzy over it, but the pleasant buzz of alcohol under his skin calmed his nerves. He probably shouldn’t have had that sixth beer, but he needed to let go every once in a while.

“Me too. I feel like I am about to burst.” Hanzo laughed, pressing further into McCree’s side.

McCree grew silent at the movement, and his grip on Hanzo’s shoulder tightened. “I had a great time.”

“Me too, we should do this again sometime.” 

McCree nodded, letting them dissolve into a companionable silence. The halls of Overwatch were silent, save for the sound of their footsteps and the soft sounds of their breathing. Hanzo, overcome with an emotion he couldn’t name—didn’t want to name—placed his hand over McCree’s lazily linking their fingers. 

“So far, your courting is going well.”

“Yeah?” McCree raised a brow, face thoughtful. 

“Doesn’t mean you have grown on me yet,” he waved the index finger of his free hand in front of McCree’s face. 

McCree took the opportunity to grab it and press a kiss to the pad of his finger, lips trailing over skin until his tongue poked out to swipe at it. Hanzo’s breath caught in his throat, and their steps stopped. 

“Too much?” McCree winced when Hanzo didn’t respond, and separated them, putting a good distance of space between them. Hanzo didn’t know if he imagined the low whine that escaped McCree, over if he even wanted it to be real.

“I—Too much,” Hanzo agreed. “For now.”

McCree snuffled a laugh, swiping a hand across his face, before stuffing them in his pockets. “I’ll text you, since I have your number an’all. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight McCree. Sleep well.” McCree smiled at that, stepping forward and crowding Hanzo against the wall, almost as if to kiss him, before his face screwed up and he retreated and turned the corner out of his sight.

“Jesse McCree,” he murmured, pressing the finger McCree had licked to his own lips. “You are the most confusing man I have ever met.”

\--

With a groan, Hanzo turned over, slapping his hand over the screeching alarm on his bedside table. “Yet another enemy I have vanquished.”

He burrowed back into the blankets, cursing softly as he felt the warmth leech out into the air from his movement. Against his fingers, his communicator buzzed, the official Overwatch channel taking precedence over his silent setting. 

With sleep-numb fingers, he unlocked his phone and pressed it against his face, barely getting out a ‘hello’ before Fareeha was all but screaming into the phone.

“Tell me how it went, I want to know everything.”

Hanzo winced, moving his phone a few inches away from his ear to spare his eardrums. 

“I hear silence! Did it go that bad?” Her voice, despite the distance, coming across loud and clear, albeit a little tinny. 

When she quieted, he placed the phone back by his ear, taking a deep breath to calm himself before trusting himself to speak. “You called me at seven in the morning on official Overwatch channels to ask me how my date went.”

“Yes?” He could vaguely hear the sounds of her bickering with Satya in the background. “But you said it was a date so I am guessing it went well. Wait, Satya is here and she wants to speak with you.”

“You made quite the scene in the corridor,” she mused, sounding much too like the cat that caught the canary for his tastes. 

“How did you see that?”

“I have my ways,” she responded primly.

“Okay, okay, give me the phone back.” 

There was the sound of a scuffle, before Fareeha took phone back. “So, it went well? Will it happen again? Don’t keep us waiting.”

“Firstly, I suggest you put me on speakerphone so I don’t have to repeat this.”

There was a loud _beep_ , and then the ambient sounds of ‘Satya and Fareeha’ filtered through his receiver. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“So,” Hanzo turned onto his beaker, and raised his free hand to rub against his forehead. “He took me to dinner at the curry place in the cafeteria.”

“A timeless choice, you can never go wrong with curry,” Fareeha remarked.

“And then we had a few drinks.”

Satya let out a laugh at that. “He means ‘a lot of drinks’.”

“He was going to walk me back to my room but we got a little distracted in the corridors.”

“You mean he—”

“ _No_. Patience,” Satya hissed.

“He just kind of, kissed and licked my finger?” He winced. Saying it out loud made it sound weird. 

“That’s, uh, nice?” Fareeha let out a grunt, obviously from the elbow Satya pressed firmly into her side. “What? It’s a little weird, Satya.”

“Regardless, we should be supportive for Hanzo. It’s his first date in a while. Or maybe even ever.”

“I am going to hang up now.”

“Of course, dear, remember to drink water and take two aspirin. We’re still on for dinner, right?”

“Yes,” Hanzo sighed, letting the hand pressed against his forehead to slip back under the sheets into warmth. “I still hate you both.”

“Of course you do. Bye.” Fareeha chirped, before the dial tone buzzing against his ear.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Hanzo swung his legs over the side of his bed, hissing when they touched the cold floor. 

He absently cycled through his messages, thumb freezing at the message from an unknown number, _McCree’s_ , before he tapped it open.

‘This Friday, same time and place?’ It read, followed by a little horse and cowboy hat emoji.

Hanzo rolled his eyes, but found himself tapping to reply. ‘Sure.’ 

His phone lit up, eagerly displaying the new message.

‘Can’t wait.’

Hanzo smiled. ‘You’ll live.’


End file.
